300 Songs
by PnkPnguinParade
Summary: A LiveJournal challenge from the Song Prompt Table of Gigantitude. The first of many and will eventually be a little bit of everything. Chapter Four:  DerekAddison
1. Thank You 170

**A/N: **I don't know why I do this to myself. But I woke up thinking about birthdays, which led to this, which is the first of 300 to come based on the 100 Songs challenge over at LiveJournal (which can be found at http://community. A word of warning: I can't tell how often this will be updated because they're all oneshots and they just come when they come. That being said, I'll try to do at least one a week, but I can't make any promises, especially after school starts in August. I also can't tell if they'll all be Addison/Alex or what... I'm not against writing anything else and I'll definitely listen to any suggestions you have for this. I hope you all enjoy!

* * *

"_I want to thank you_

_For giving me the best day of my life_

_And oh, just to be with you_

_Is having the best day of my life"_

"_Thank You"_

_--Dido_

_

* * *

_

Addison hates birthdays.

She especially hates this one because it makes her officially "over the hill."

Most of all, she hates that expression "over the hill." Which hill? And why in blue hell is she now "over it"? Is it just a clever way of saying that her life is pretty much downhill from here? She snorts. Addison needs a jackhammer is she's going to go any lower.

Such are the thoughts that fill her head as she rushes in to work, grateful, at least for the fact that one three people in Seattle know that today is her birthday, and seeing as how one is her ex-husband, one is her ex-man-whore and one is herself, Addison figures she can look forward to a quiet, peaceful birthday. She checks over the OR board quickly, scanning the recent surgeries and nods, taking a slow drink of her coffee. If there ever was a good thing to come out of this God-forsaken city, Addison thinks it has to be Starbucks.

"Addison." Derek comes up behind her, his thick mop of hair wild under his scrub cap. "Are you heading into surgery?"

She narrows her eyes at him. He knows as well as she does that she refuses to schedule surgeries on her birthday. Addison really cannot handle the bad omen of a baby's death for the year ahead.

"Well…" He pulls a powder blue envelope from the pocket of his lab coat. "I know you hate birthdays, but…" Derek holds it out to her. "Well, it wouldn't have seemed right if I didn't…" He blushes.

Addison smiles gently. "Thank you." She pulls her ex-husband into her arms. She knows she should let him go before the rumor mills start, but the familiarity of his arms around her waist and her chin on his shoulder makes her heart ache for what could have been. She sighs. She really is over him. He's just always made her birthdays special.

Addison's pager beeps at her side. She glances down at it and gives Derek an apologetic look. "I have to go…" She remembers the unopened card in her hand. "I… Um… Can I open it later?"

"Yeah," he nods. "That's probably better anyway."

She kisses his cheek. "Thank you, Derek, really." Addison places the card in her pocket and heads toward the elevator.

…

The balloon arrives at lunchtime. Not just a balloon. A huge, shiny, obnoxious _singing_ balloon complete with a huge "PRESS ME" button and holographic letter that exclaims, "Happy Birthday, Wild Thing." When the candy-striper brings it to the table she always shares with Callie, she tries to accept it as quietly as one can accept a giant, helium filled jukebox. "Happy birthday, Doctor Montgomery!" the candy-striper says loudly and Callie looks at her friend with such severity that, were Addison not wearing four-inch heels that could be lodged into someone's skull with ease, she would have feared for her life.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Callie asks as soon as the candy-striper leaves.

Addison turns the balloon around and around frantically. "There's no note. There's no card. Did you do this? Because this just _screams_ Callie Torres."

Callie knocks the balloon from the space between them, accidentally hitting the "PRESS ME" button. "Hello! Didn't even know it was your birthday…" She pauses for a minute, listening to the song. Callie laughs. "And apparently it screams _Wild Thing_ too!"

"Oh, my God…"

Callie laughs uproariously, but Addison wishes she could sink into a flesh colored puddle on the floor when she sees Mark wink to her from the cafeteria door.

…

She doesn't know how to take this. For her last fifteen birthdays, she's managed to either avoid or successfully complete surgeries. But she supposes it makes a weird kind of irony that she loses her first surgical birthday baby on her first birthday in Seattle. Then there was that yelling match with Alex Karev in the scrub room right after she called time of death. He had blamed her for the baby's death and she can't even argue with him, because she can't help but think that if she hadn't been so worried about the still unopened card in her lab coat and the stupid balloon that let loose with a rousing chorus of _Wild Thing_ every time she bumped it with her shoulder, the baby might have lived. She presses her palms to her eyes and sighs. Addison doesn't know what to do. She picks up the envelope with her name scrawled across the front in Derek's handwriting and slides her finger under the flap, but she puts it back down. She isn't enough in an emotionally stable place to open it right now. The balloon floats across the ceiling of the hotel room, the red string trailing across her face and she brushes it away absentmindedly. She reaches for the remote, but drops it when she hears a knock on the door.

She pulls open the door and Callie pushes past her into the room. "Okay." Callie hands Addison a cup of coffee and a Tupperware container with four chocolate cupcakes. "Happy birthday."

Addison manages a tiny smile. "Cupcakes?"

"Mmm…" Callie nods as she takes a drink of coffee. "They're really good. An Izzie Stevens original."

She can feel her jaw drop. "You brought me Izzie Stevens' cupcakes? Are you criminally insane?" Addison looks warily at the pink icing. "They're probably poisoned or something."

"Well, all the bakeries are closed! What did you want me to do?" Callie spits. "I mean, I know it's not a singing balloon, but…"

Addison catches Callie's eyes and they laugh. "I'm sorry," Addison apologizes. "I lost a baby today. I've never lost a baby on my birthday before and… I think Karev… He blames me. He acted... Kind of pissy."

"Oh!" Callie gasps. "I almost forgot tot ell you." She peels the silver baking cup from a cupcake. "There's a very handsome doctor that is not of the McEamy persuasion waiting for you in the lobby."

Addison feels herself smile as she grabs her key card from the nightstand and follows Callie out the door.

The ride down to the ground floor of the hotel feels painfully long and Addison taps her thigh impatiently as she watches the numbers tick by. Finally she reaches the bottom and the doors slide open.

She knows that bad posture covered with the equally terribly jacket anywhere. Addison stops three feet behind him and clears her throat. "Doctor Karev."

Alex turns around at his name and immediately blushes. "Doctor Montgomery." He shuffles his feet.

"Why are you here?" she asks him quietly.

He sighs and runs a hand over his hair. "Well, I felt bad about earlier… About blaming you. You know it wasn't your fault, right? Then I found out it was your birthday…" He holds out a pick icinged cupcake. "I helped Izzie make them. I frosted." He motions to the pink swirls. "Anyway… I felt like I needed to apologize, but I couldn't…" He ducks his head, embarrassed. "I couldn't actually work up the courage to go up and then Callie…" He stares at his shoes.

Addison fiddles nervously with a string on her sweatshirt. "How long have you been here?"

He glances at his watch. "Only about an hour."

She laughs and they stand in awkward silence for a moment. "Why don't you—"

"Look," he interrupts her, which she hates, but there's something in his eyes that make her bite her tongue. "Sorry, but I have to get this out." He takes a deep breath "When I said I wasn't interested, I… It was a lie, okay? I kind of… Well, I could… Potentially… Like you a lot…" He searches her face. "Okay?"

Addison feels fifteen again, standing there in the brightly lit hotel lobby in an oversized Yale hoodie because July in Washington is still cold for her taste, holding a chocolate cupcake with lopsided pink frosting, looking up at the man she loves. She grins.

"Umm…" He leans toward her. "Do you think you could say something?"

She looks down at the cupcake. "Thank you for the cupcake. Callie brought me more. Why don't you… Well, if you want… Why don't you come upstairs with me?" She extends her free hand to him. "I have coffee," she adds as an afterthought.

"You bet." Alex takes her hand.

…

They talk for a while, but they both knew what was coming. Before she can process what's happening, his lips are on hers, her tongue is against his, and they're struggling with the endless layers of clothes like teenagers. But soon, Addison's gripping the sheets and sighing, rocking her hips against his in a rhythm that's unlike anything she's ever experienced. She peaks first and sighs his name against his shoulders. He follows her soon and as he spills inside her, he kisses her collarbone. "Happy birthday, Addison."

She smiles.

Addison loves birthdays.


	2. Currents 98

**A/N: **Alright... This is an eensy bit late for Fourth of July and I could keep tweaking, but I've always been told that you should stop before you think it's finished so, oh well... I'm still not really happy with it, but I still wanted to get it up before it's October and then a Fourth of July fic would be completely inappropriate. This was written for 3mcaddexshipper over at LiveJournal when they wanted Fourth of July smut. I'm not sure how smutty this ended up being but whatever. Also, the first scenes with Izzie and the Interns/Residents was supposed to expand out to be this huge plot point in something else, but I cut it and stuck it in here. It has no bearing on the rest of the story, it just kind of shows how everyone's reacting to their relationship and I just think it's funny. Enjoy!

* * *

"_If it is born in flames then we should let it burn  
Burn as brightly as we can  
And if it's gotta end then let it end in flames  
Let it burn all the way down"_

_"Currents"_

_--Dashboard Confessional_

* * *

Izzie wasn't sure what had made her sit up and take notice of whatever-the-hell was going on between Alex and Addison. She couldn't tell if it was the way he would reach over to tuck a strand of red hair behind her ear at lunch or if it was the way her stockinged foot always seemed to find ways to "accidentally" brush against his ankle when they ate lunch together. Of course, Izzie figured, it could just be the fact that Alex and Addison actually ate lunch together. It made Izzie wonder, it made Izzie angry, and, although she'd never admit it, it made Izzie the tiniest bit jealous. Even though she's completely and totally over him, he is still her Alex and seeing Satan in Salmon Scrubs (Izzie silently gives herself points for her excellent use of alliteration) all over him is not Izzie's idea of a great day. And it being the Fourth of July, she needs something to take her mind off the endless suturing and burn treatments she's being subjected to in the pit while Alex and Satan's Whore deliver babies all day. So she decides to watch them carefully and thoroughly, but definitely not obviously. And for an operation of this magnitude, she would need help.

She plops down beside Meredith at their usual lunch table and takes an apple from George's tray. "I need you guys to help me keep an eye on Alex and Addison."

"Nice to see you, too," Meredith mutters through a mouth full of salad.

"Can I ask why we're watching them?" George takes a drink of water. "By the way, that was my apple…"

Izzie eyes Addison and Alex as they made their way toward Callie, sitting at a table in the back of the cafeteria. "Because there's something going on between them," she states, watching Alex laugh at something Addison had said.

"Now, what makes you say that?" Meredith asks.

Izzie sighs and fingers the apple. "They like… talk and laugh and eat together and… stuff. I am telling you guys, there's something totally weird going on."

Meredith grins. "A normal person would call that a friendship, Iz."

"Oh, since when does Alex have friends?" Izzie asks, rolling her eyes.

"Well, for that matter," Cristina interjects, "since when does McSatan have friends?"

Izzie nods. "That is a valid point."

"What if nothing's going on and you're just making this whole thing up in your head?" George questions. "I mean, surely Dr. Montgomery can… Well…" He stammers. "Um… Well, it's not like she's incredibly unattractive or anything. Can I have my apple back now?"

Meredith laughs. "And I thought she was still all hot and heavy with McSteamy."

"I don't know…" Cristina says. "I think she and Evil Spawn make kind of a cute, evil little couple. Maybe their children will be born with horns." Meredith and George laugh.

Izzie sighs, annoyed. "Look, will you help me or not?"

The three other doctors look around at each other before Meredith finally shrugs.

"Well…" George starts. "Addison's like Callie's best friend. I guess I could ask her if she knows anything…"

"See?" Izzie asks Cristina. "Thank you, George."

"You're welcome," he nods. "And also for the apple."

"I think you're making way too big a deal out of all this," Meredith adds.

"Meredith's right, Iz…" Cristina pushes herself away from the table. "It's none of our business who Alex is contracting VD's from these days. Let it go."

…

Addison has the strangest feeling. She expects her last day at Seattle Grace to be weird, but this is completely different than anything she expected to feel. There's the slightest sense of anticipation, of course, but no matter which way she turns, it always feels like someone was watching her. And by 'someone' she means a someone who is not Alex Karev. She's used to his glances, she almost even expects them. As she fills out her post-op notes for Katie Harris (her seventh Fourth of July baby in fifteen years, 7 lbs., 5ozs., 20 inches long, delivered at 10:22 am, emergency C-section), Addison feels the familiar sense of him and when she looks over the top of her reading glasses, she isn't surprised to see Karev standing across the hall from her, his hands shoved into the pockets of his lab coat and his lips set in that smirk that Addison has (against her will) kind of fallen in love with over the last few months.

"Hey." He crosses the hall to her and rests his back on the nurses' station.

"Hey…" she replies, refusing to look at him.

He bumps into her playfully. "What are you doing tonight?"

"Oh…" she sighs, continuing her perusal of Katie's chart. "I thought I'd go home, have a nice dinner of leftover pizza, watch some _Buffy,_ and wallow in the misery that is my life, while simultaneously cleaning out my mini bar… Again." She flips the chart closed and removes her glasses. "And you?" she asks brightly, looking at him for the first time.

Alex stares at her. "Seriously?"

She scoffs. "No. I was joking. Well, I was joking about the wallowing in my self-pity and cleaning out my mini bar part. But everything else is just about right. Occasionally, I'll have leftover Chinese instead, but still… Mostly that's right."

"It's the Fourth… You wanna do something?" he asks nonchalantly, taking the chart from her.

Addison narrows her eyes. "With you?"

"Well, yeah!" He places the chart on the nurses' station. "I hear they do some really great fireworks shows over Elliot Bay. If we catch the right ferryboat, we should get a pretty good view."

She smiles. "What is this? A date?"

Alex feels the color rise to his cheeks. "No!" he spits. "Well, I mean… We'll just call it a friendly outing."

"Since when have we been friends?" Addison laughs softly.

"Okay, look…" He turns toward her. "Meet me at Joe's at eight o'clock. I promise you'll have more fun with me and lots of flamey explosives than you would with Buffy."

"Hmmm…" Addison weighs her options. "I don't know… You or a half-naked David Boreanaz…"

"Haha," he mimics laughter. "Just… Do this, okay? It'll be fun." He flashes her The Smile (Addison had taken to thinking of his lovely expressions in capitals) one more time before he turns and heads down the hall.

Addison sighs. At least having plans with Alex means she can put off telling him about her departure for a few hours. She figures this should make her happier.

But she can't figure out why it doesn't.

…

"Is this at all weird for you?" Alex asks her.

Addison sighs. "Not as weird as I thought it would be." She sips her lemonade. "You're actually very enjoyable when you're not telling me how to do my job."

He laughs. "Thanks, I think." Alex checks his watch.

"I'm sorry we missed the ferry." She pushes her hair out of her face. "Traffic was—"

"Yeah," he cuts her off. "I know. It's okay." He motions to the blanket spread across the hood of his car. "This is better."

She looks around their spot, marveling at the lack of people. "How did you even know about this place?"

He shrugs. "I know things."

She shoots him an incredulous look.

"Okay…" Alex throws up his hands. "I asked Meredith. And, we didn't actually miss the ferry," he adds apologetically. "I asked Meredith where the best place to watch was and… Here we are."

Addison studies his face. "Why aren't you at the hospital with Mark waiting to do skin grafts on all the idiots who shoot fireworks at each other's faces?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. I guess I'd rather be with you."

Her breath catches in her throat and she finds it impossible to look away from the dark brown of his eyes. She puts a hand to his cheek and swallows hard. It isn't the first look like this they've had, but it's the first that makes her heart jump to her throat and lodge there, crushing her trachea. She inches her face closer to his until she can feel his breath on her lips.

"Uhh…" He clears his throat. "They're starting."

"Right." She settles against the windshield. "Right…"

They watch in silence for a few minutes before Alex turns toward her and watches the colors reflecting off her face.

Addison can see him out the corner of her eye and she faces him. "What are you looking at?"

He blinks. "You. I never… Well, I've never… I've never really seen you out of the hospital or Joe's right after you came out of the hospital." Alex stares at her. "I've never seen you like this. Relaxed and… happy. You're beautiful."

She feels herself smile a tiny bit. "I bet you say that to all the girls you take firework watching."

He clasps her hand and rolled onto his side. "Well, since you're the only one…" He buries his face in her neck. "Yes…" He kisses her neck, gently sucking at a spot right behind her ear.

Addison wonders how he knew that's _the_ spot, but she decides she doesn't care as his lips crush hers and his tongue plays around the edges of her mouth. She sighs, overcome with the entire situation and moans softly when he rolls on top of her and snakes a hand underneath her t-shirt.

She pulls his shirt over his shoulders and he looks down at her. "Is this okay?" he whispers.

She nods. "It's fine. Different, but fine."

His mouth covers hers again and she feels his hands on her hips. Addison catches his lip between her teeth and he unzips her jeans and slides the denim down her thighs.

She's never been one for foreplay and Mark used to tell her the 'How do you know when a date with a redhead's over? She unties you' joke all the time and when she pushes his pants down to his knees and lets the plum weight of him rise into her hands, she laughs into his mouth. She guides him into her and they're finally connected.

Even without opening her eyes, Addison can see the fireworks.

…

She props herself up onto her elbow and sighs. "Alex, there's something we have to talk about."

"Less talk." Alex kisses her. "More sex."

"Alex…" she pleads with him. Addison rolls off the hotel bed and pulls on her t-shirt. "I really need to talk to you."

"Okay." He sits up. "Talk to me."

She sighs. "Last night was great."

"Yeah…"

"And it's important that you know how much I really like you… Not just in a romantic way. I like you as a doctor and I really feel like you've come a long way."

"Ads…" he breathes. "We are nearing your point, right? Whatever you need to say, you can say it. It's okay. I'm not going to get mad or anything."

"I'm leaving," she says quickly. "Tomorrow. Today. This morning. At seven. Yesterday was my last day at Seattle Grace."

His jaw drops. "What? Where?"

"Los Angeles," she mutters quietly, sinking into the chair beside the wall.

"Los Angeles?" He turns this information over in his head. "Los Angeles? Los-fucking-Angeles?"

Addison bites her thumbnail. "You said you wouldn't get mad…"

He hastily puts on his boxers. "I'm not mad, Addison. I'm furious. What the fuck are you thinking?" He gathers his clothes in a frenzy.

She sniffs. "It's been… Well, I've been talking to Richard since... Since Preston left."

"You've known?" Alex backs away from her. "You've known for that long and you didn't tell me? I'm your resident!" He yanks his shirt over his head and buttons his pants.

"I know."

"And what the fuck was this?" he motions to the messy bed. "What has this entire night been?"

She stands. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. I thought… I didn't know…"

"What? What else do you have to tell me?"

"I didn't know I still felt this way about you!" she cries, putting a hand to her mouth. "I thought…" Addison swallows a sob and tucks her hair behind her ears. She inhales deeply. "Going to LA was supposed to be cleansing. It's supposed to clear my head. It was supposed to get me away from all the relationships that I left in shambles."

"And me?"

She laughs a little. "You didn't want me. I can't be your girlfriend when you want me to be or when it's convenient for you. If I'm in this…" She sighs. "It doesn't matter anymore."

Alex bites his lip and scoffs. "Right. It doesn't matter." He grabs his keys from the table and heads for the door.

"Alex!"

"Have fun in LA," he says civilly, a hand on the doorknob. "City of Fucking Angels and all that. Good bye, Doctor Montgomery." Alex pulls open the door and leaves Addison wishing she'd said a million different things.

…

Addison can't sleep, so instead, she triple checks the hotel room to make certain she's packed everything. After she takes a shower and does her hair and makeup, she packs her toiletries and sets the smallest bag by the rest of her suitcases. At 6:45, she calls the front desk and asks them to send someone up to carry her things to her car in the parking lot.

At 6:56 the last suitcase is loaded into her car and she slams the trunk with finality. She looks up to the sky and isn't a bit surprised to see it cloudy and overcast. "The perfect end to a perfect stay in the most God-forsaken city on the planet," she mutters, pulling her keys from her purse. She opens the driver's side door.

"Addison!"

She looks in the direction the voice came from and sees Alex running across the street, carrying his beat up bag, yelling her name.

"Addison!" He stops just short of her and pants. "Take me with you."

Addison smiles. "I thought of eighteen different ways I wanted you to say that…" She chuckles. "Balloons… Sky writing… There were ponies in one version." She cups his face. "But Alex… You need to stay here."

"I need to be with you," he argues.

She shakes her head. "And what happens in two or three years when we've made each other miserable and you think back on this exact moment and wonder what would have happened if you hadn't gotten in the car."

"What?"

"Alex, I love you. You have to understand that. But I'm not good for anyone, especially not you right now. I need time. I need space. I need to go somewhere that the sun actually shines."

"But I can't do it…" he says quietly.

Addison nods. "You can. Didn't your mother ever tell you that if you love something let it go?"

He sighs. "That's stupid, Addison."

She laughs. "Yeah, but if you love me like I love you, you'll let me go. You'll realize how much I need this, how much _we_ need this."

"We're both messed up, Ads," he counters. "We're both stubborn and always right. We'd fight like cats and dogs and it rains every day here, but it wouldn't matter because we'd have each other. We'd be happy."

"To make you happy, I'd have to be happy first, Alex. You have to let me do this."

"I can't let you go…"

"You have to. Because I'm your boss and I say so." She kisses him softly. "I have to go now. It's an eleven hour drive to Sacramento. Well, ten, if I drive like you do."

Alex can't make himself laugh, so instead he settles for a lopsided grin.

"Ahh, see!" She teases. "I knew I could get a grin."

"I love you…" He kisses her deeply and pulls her into his arms.

She closes her eyes and lets herself disappear in his embrace. "Fireworks, Alex…"

"Fireworks are a beautiful thing," comes his muffled reply from her shoulder. "But not as beautiful as you."

Addison kisses him. "Just remember the fireworks."

…

He never sees her again.

Addison reads about him in various medical journals every once in a while and she tries to catch his symposiums when he's around Los Angeles, but she always sits at the back and leaves before it's over. She doesn't think she deserves to see him, but mostly she's too ashamed for letting go of the most solid thing she's ever had.

Alex hears from Shepherd that she's remarried to an alternative medicine practitioner and they've adopted a little girl from Russia. It surprises him when she doesn't even come back to Seattle for Mark and Izzie's wedding, but Mark explains that she was in Virginia for her husband's mother's funeral at the time.

Mark tells Addison at New Years that Alex and Olivia are engaged and he supposes she'll be invited. Addison won't make herself go, though. She's cheated on one husband. She couldn't live with herself if she did another one.

…

Pete settles his arm around her waist and she pulls their daughter, Sophie, close to her legs. "Isn't it beautiful, Mommy?" she whispers in awe.

Pete swings Sophie onto his shoulders. "No, Soph… It's beautiful _like_ mommy." He kisses Addison's cheek. "Isn't that right, babe?"

She smiles. "Fireworks," Addison mutters, "are a beautiful thing."


	3. Rainyday Man 189

Well... It's been awhile. But I finally managed to tear myself away from HP long enough to write this. I found it incredibly hard to write, but I'm still rather pleased with this one. It's my first attempt at Maddison, so, I'm not sure how this will go over. Anyway. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy.

* * *

"_Rainy day man, he don't like sunshine_

_He don't chase rainbows, he don't need good times_

_Grey days rolling, then you'll see him_

_Empty feeling, now I need him."_

"_Rainy Day Man"_

_--Bonnie Raitt_

* * *

Her voice is tiny and dripping with tears and gin when he answers his Blackberry with a sleep infused hello.

"Mark, I need you to come to Seattle."

He sits up, wide awake. "What?"

"Can you—" He hears her take a shaky breath. "Look, can you just come out here?"

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Prom," she states simply. "I hate proms."

He glances at the clock by his bed. "You do realize that it's 3:30 in the morning here and I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about, right?"

"Just…" She sighs. "Can you please come to Seattle? I need a friend, okay, and right now, you're the only one I've got."

"Addison…" he says quietly.

"Can you come or not?" she asks, frustrated.

Mark sighs and rubs his eyes. "Give me a few days to have my surgeries pushed…"

"But you'll come?" Her voice sounds hopeful and he can almost see her bottom lip quivering.

"Yeah…" He wonders why he lets her do this to him. "I'll come."

…

He really was going to talk to her. He was going to sit her down on the bed and make her tell him why the hell she'd called him after months of silence and asked, _begged_ him, really to come to a city he hated full of people who despised him. He really was _not_ going to have sex with her, at least not while that pesky 'Shepherd' was still attached to the end of her name, but her eyes are dark with longing (if not slightly from the gin he can smell on her breath) and she pulls his head to hers without a word, swallowing the beginning of his question in the heat of her kisses.

Mark stumbles into her hotel room, her hands on the waistband of his jeans guiding him back to the bed. She puts her hands on his chest and shoves his backwards onto the mattress and she climbs on top of him, tucking her hair behind her ears and attacking his mouth with hers. His hands tunnel under her white robe and rest on her thighs. He sighs her name into her mouth.

Addison moans gently in response, and her fingers work deftly to unfasten his belt and unbutton his jeans. She laughs a little when she feels the zipper give way and she pulls his boxers down just enough to set herself on top of him.

Mark feels his breath catch in his throat as she grinds her hips against his and keeps him pinned down with her hands on his chest. It's a bit insane, really, he admits as he rubs gentle circles on her thighs, that she's as strong as she is. He doesn't know what happened, and he doesn't know why she's in a hotel and not with Derek, but he can't seem to make himself care as she throws her head back and shudders in satisfaction. She kisses him lightly. "Thank you for coming."

…

She follows him into the shower next, surprising him into dropping the bar of hotel soap by trailing light kisses along his shoulders. He turns to face her and she smiles gently. "Addison…" He breathes. "What is this all about?"

She shakes her head. "Can we talk about it later?"

Try as he might, Mark can't resist her tongue across his lips, and he tangles his fingers in her hair as she dives deeper into his mouth. He pulls his mouth from hers. "Have you been drinking again?"

She gasps. "Oh, just a little champagne. Shut up. I don't want to talk about it." Addison winds her arms around his neck and pulls him closer to her.

He's just about to press her against the wall when she stops suddenly and turns her head from him. "Did you hear that?"

He shakes his head. "Hear what?"

"Oh!" Addison steps out of the shower, towel dries her hair, and quickly pulls on her robe. "I forgot. I ordered room service right before you got here. Finish your shower," she adds. "When you get out, we can have dessert." She grins devilishly at him, and he can't help but feel that somehow this is all very wrong.

He washes his hair quickly, trying to push all feelings of guilt out of his mind, and turns the water off, reaching for a white towel on the rack by the shower. Mark doesn't bother wrapping it completely around himself, because the way Addison's been going tonight, there's more than a good chance that it won't make it more than a foot outside the door.

He pushes the door open and steps out, concentrating on covering the right amounts in case the room service person is still at the door. He looks up, Addison's name dying on his lips as he sees Derek sitting beside her on the bed. "Oh…"

Addison doesn't turn around, even after Derek gives her an incredulous look and her shoulders slump.

Mark can't think of anything to say that could possibly make the situation any better. He grins in spite of himself. "This is awkward." He watches Derek smirk at Addison a tiny bit before he reaches for her champagne glass and takes a long drink. Mark suddenly finds the need to secure the towel around his waist.

"Ahh…" Derek sighs. "I feel much better now." He stands and walks out the door.

Addison sighs deeply and turns to him. "It wasn't room service."

He nods. "I got that."

…

Mark Sloan isn't anyone's bitch.

Mark Sloan has no problem telling anyone no. In fact, Mark mainly does the telling.

Mark Sloan doesn't get used by women.

Mark Sloan is a plastic surgeon and, by default, is a man-whore (because, really, when you spend your entire day looking at beautiful naked women and a prerequisite for working in your office is a discounted breast augmentation, how could you not take advantage of the situation?).

And all that would be great if it were actually true.

Well, okay, the man-whore part is right.

However, Mark finds it difficult to dismiss those other three parts all because of her. Addison. With her mile-long legs, biting sarcasm, and unbelievably iridescent red hair that he refused to believe was natural for the first year-and-a-half her knew her. With a grimace, Mark realizes a sad fact about his life—he is her bitch, he can't tell her no, and (this hurts him most of all) he knows she uses him.

He kind of hates himself in this moment.

…

"He just doesn't understand where I'm coming from."

"Yeah, well, he's Derek. Sometimes he gets kind of self-involved."

"Oh, please. You're a plastic surgeon. If anyone in this doctoral trifecta is self-involved, it's you."

"We can't all have hearts the size of Manhattan and save babies and womanly parts. But don't get me wrong, I appreciate your effort for the boobs. I like boobs. I'm a boob man."

"Somehow I got that about you."

"So are we going to tell Derek about this?"

"And the conversation always leads to…"

"Addison, I'm serious. He's your fiancé. It's completely up to you."

"I think… No. We don't tell him. It would ruin everything."

"What about me, Addison? I love you, too. I always have."

"Don't say that."

"Why? Are you afraid it's true? Or are you more afraid of what you feel deep down? You love me too, don't you?"

"Derek doesn't hear about this, Mark. We happened. It happened. It won't happen again."

"You say that now…"

"I'm saying it now for good. I'm marrying your best friend in two months. If you care about Derek at all, you'll appreciate this for the mistake that it was. Please, please don't complicate things, Mark."

"This wasn't a mistake. You don't just walk through your fiancé's best friend's door and accidentally fall into bed with him. That kind of mistake doesn't just happen. You thought about this. You thought about this a lot, didn't you?"

She says nothing.

…

Derek doesn't know about that time right after med school but right before the wedding of the century. He doesn't know about the two months after he left. He doesn't know about what would have been their baby. It kills Mark what she hasn't told Derek. You'd think now, after the deed's done, after the papers are signed, the assets divided, the real estate in New York sold, after they've snuck around this god-forsaken hospital that thrives on gossip, after all this, you'd think that she'd come clean and tell him.

But that's Addison for you.

She's been gone for three hours and Mark's already drunk half a bottle of Scotch trying desperate to fill the hole in the shape of her in his heart.

Alex Karev settles himself onto the bar stool next to him. Mark raises his glass in a silent salute. Whether he likes it or not, he, Karev, and Derek are all in the same boat. They all fell for her. They all screwed her over. And they're all feeling the burn now that she left.

Mark empties the glass and Joe pours him another one, shaking his head lightly. "She did a number on the two of you, didn't she?"

Alex shrugs and fiddles with a peanut shell he's fished out of the bottom of the bowl.

Mark nods. "Karev."

Alex looks up at Mark, but doesn't speak.

"Let me buy you a drink."


	4. So She Dances 97

**A/N:** So yay, college. [That's where I've been for the past two weeks, fyi. Actually, I'm not sure how I feel about it yet, but that's not the point. The point is... this is old. And I mean, really old. This might have been the very first thing I ever wrote for Grey's. And there it was just taking up space on my harddrive for months, and while I was doing laundry today, I thought, hmm... I haven't posted anything in a while. And then, as if it were a sign from God, this song came on my iPod and I thought, hmm. Maybe this is a sign from God. Nevertheless, I went back upstairs, dug this out and decided to post it. I'm not sure I even like it, but I hadn't posted any Addek in this thing. As always, your thought and comments are very much appreciated. Now I really have to carry out the trash.

* * *

Summary: She hasn't danced in years… But release comes when the ribbons of her Pointe shoes are wound securely around her ankles. Early (college) Addek. One-shot. 

**Rating: **PG

**Disclaimer:**I'm a seventeen-year-old girl from Oklahoma with no money, no job, and no life. I don't have any television awards, I don't have millions of dollars in the bank from creating an awesome TV show, and I definitely don't know Patrick Dempsey. That being said, please don't sue me. The only thing I have worth taking is my DVD collection and my fabulous _Grey's _calendar. Oh, and the song's not mine either.

_She moves with the music  
The song is her lover  
The melody's making her cry_

She had always thought it was a stupid pastime. What good was Pointe dancing going to do her in medical school? To tell the complete truth, even at four years old, Addison would have been much happier learning the seven divisions of biological classification than the five feet positions of the most useless pastime on earth. Ballet might be pretty and fun for some girls, but she was definitely not one of them.

So she couldn't really explain why she had dug her scarlet Pointe shoes out from the bottom of her closet, stuffed them in a gym bag, and headed over to the performing arts building at eleven o'clock at night. It had been years since she had danced. She half-hoped her shoes wouldn't fit anymore. She walked into the dark, mirrored room and decided against turning on any lights. The moonlight from the windows would have to do. She sank down onto the wooden floor and pulled out her crumpled shoes. She honestly didn't know what had made her bring them from home. She supposed it was a sentimental thing or perhaps her reminder that getting away from her overbearing parents was the best thing she'd ever done. Either way, her foot slid into them easily and winding the red ribbon around her ankles brought back too many memories. Learning she was to begin Pointe at age eight instead of ten, Addison had insisted on getting red shoes. Her teacher hadn't much liked the idea, but after watching the company's production of 'The Red Shoes,' she made up her mind and settled on a bargain with her parents: she would keep taking ballet as long as they bought her a pair of red pointe shoes instead of the boring pale pink ones that everyone else had. That was another thing Addison hated about ballet. Everything had to be pink. And another thing Addison definitely wasn't—a pink girl. She guessed they figured that if you were girly enough to be a ballerina, then you were girly enough to wear pink… And nothing else. The red shoes had grown to be her staple. She became the little girl with the big opinions and shoes as red as her hair. The pair she held in her hands was the last pair she had bought. She had only danced in them three times before she had fallen, broken her ankle, and ended her professional ballet career before it began. Not that she had complained. She was almost sure she would have given her eye teeth to quit dancing.

But as she turned to the huge mirror and pinned her hair out of her face, she couldn't explain the sudden urge she had to dance. Sure, it hadn't been the best of days, and normally, a quick romp in the sheets with Derek would have fixed that. But… There was the part where she had stayed up way too late fighting with him last night and hadn't studied like she should have for her Western Civ midterm. She hadn't failed, but she definitely had not done Addison-worthy. And listening to Savvy go on and on about some cute boy she had met in the union today had done absolutely nothing for Addison's already frazzled patience. So, being left without her normal release, she had grabbed the scarlet shoes from the bottom of her closet and here she was.

She stood up carefully, letting her feet adjust to the tight confines of the shoes. She took a deep breath and raised herself onto her toes. Her muscles tightened familiarly and she took two steps backward before she lost her balance and fell back onto the balls of her feet. Addison sighed and tried again. It was all coming back to her now. Plié, prep, and pirouette. She wandered over to the record player, selected the _Romeo and Juliet_ record, and let the music swell around her.

Her last recital had been Romeo and Juliet and at fifteen, she had been the company's youngest Juliet in history and, her pride swelled, the only redheaded one. The one thing she had liked about ballet? She was good at it. And Addison had never wasted her time doing something she wouldn't excel at. She had the perfect body, she was just the right height. It seemed that ballet was the only thing in which her height wouldn't hinder her. She closed her eyes and let her muscle memory guide her across the floor. She wasn't aware of how much time had passed. She just danced until the record cut off and then collapsed, panting on the floor. She knew she should get up, but the floor was cool against her hot cheeks and her legs suddenly felt like jelly. It had been a long time since she had danced like that and she was certain that she would regret all those fouettés in the morning. When Addison reached up to her cheek to push back the red tendrils that had fallen out of their hairpin, she realized that the wetness she felt on her cheeks was tears. She had been so lost in the emotion of the music that she had forgotten her own. And suddenly, it all made sense to her.

She danced for expression. Savvy wrote poetry, Derek went fishing, Mark hit things, and she danced. What a release! This was so much better than just-okay-sex with Derek. As Addison lay on her back in the floor, she laughed and more tears spilled from her eyes. And she wanted Derek. She wanted him to be here experiencing this rush with her. She considered going to his dorm room, dragging him out of bed, and making him dance with her. But then she remembered their fight the night before. It had been over something stupid… She wasn't even sure she remembered exactly what it was about. But that was the usual way her fights with Derek turned out—they ended up screaming at each other until they couldn't remember what they had starting yelling about. It had been something about Mark… Oh, yes, she remembered it all now. Derek was mad that Mark had taken Addison out for lunch. Usually, Derek would have come with them. Usually, it wouldn't have been a big deal. But he was sitting a midterm when Addison had forgotten and went up to his room with takeout from their favorite Chinese place. Mark had seen the plastic sacks she was holding, reminded her that Derek had a test, and offered to take her to lunch as a friend. She hadn't seen the harm in it. She hadn't seen why Derek would mind. After all, he and Mark had been best friends since they were kids. Surely he would recognize it for the friendly gesture it was and wouldn't freak out in that overbearing, pushy kind of way that he had a tendency to. Surely he would see that Mark was finally accepting her into their friendship like Derek had wanted him to.

Wrong. She had been so wrong. She enjoyed Mark's company. He was a welcome break from Derek's overdramatics… And, she almost hated to admit, he wasn't bad to look at. A part of her wanted her to feel guilty, but another part, a bigger part, knew that Derek had yelled at her for no reason. She loved him, she truly did, but there were times when Derek drove her crazy.

Wiping the tears from her cheeks, Addison pushed herself to her feet, walked over to the record player and started the music. Dancing was definitely her release.

_But how will I know where to start?  
She's spinning between constellations and dreams  
Her rhythm is my beating heart_

Derek sat in the dark auditorium with his head in his hands. He often sat in the hall just to think. He liked it when it was dark and empty and he could picture the very first day. He had been sitting in the same spot --- row L, seat 22 --- and she had been sitting in front of him. It was her hair that first caught his attention. The lights overhead had cast an orange glow onto her hair, making it seem even redder than it was. Mark had tapped her on the shoulder and given her the 'My friend thinks you're hot,' line. She had rolled her eyes and turned back to the blonde sitting beside her. But occasionally, Derek remembered, she would glance in his direction and smile the tiniest bit. Finally, Derek had cleared his throat and introduced himself and she had taken his hand in hers and shaken it. He would never forget the way he felt when he heard her say her name. _Addison…_ After the seminar, he had walked around with her name echoing in his head. _Addison Forbes Montgomery… _He liked the way it rolled off his tongue and he liked the way it looked on paper. He was head over heels for a girl he'd only talked to for five seconds. And then she appeared in his anatomy class. Recognizing each other, they became lab partners and their friendship had grown. Soon, he was spending more time with Addison than with Mark and then, one day, they just were. There wasn't a Derek anymore. There wasn't an Addison anymore. They were Derek-and-Addison. Addison-and-Derek. And they just were.

And whenever their fights got too much or he just needed a break from Mark, Derek would make the trip from his dorm room to the concert hall of the performing arts building to sit in his seat in the dark and think. And he had been here for some time. His fight with Addison the night before had been the worst so far. He knew it was his fault, he didn't blame her in the least, and, despite all his thinking, he couldn't understand why he had gotten so upset at her. It had just been lunch with Mark. But, Derek snorted, Mark did have a bad habit about stealing the girls Derek was interested in. His anger had arisen from Mark but had been directed towards Addison. He was a complete ass. He'd had absolutely no reason for lashing out at Addie the way he had. And he felt awful about it. He glanced down at his watch. It was almost 1:30 and way too late to call or see Addison without incurring the wrath of her or Savannah, her over blonde and completely over perky roommate.

Derek pushed himself out of his seat, resting his hands on the back of what had been Addison's seat on the day they met. It was his ritual. Derek crossed himself and headed out the doors. He wasn't incredibly religious, but some of his Catholic roots still comforted him. Whenever he finished a particularly enlightening "think-session" as Addison called them, he always liked to touch the back of what had been her seat and cross himself, almost in thanks for the refreshment. And, he figured that it couldn't hurt to pray to a higher power. Especially when it came to redeeming himself with Addison. He was more scared of her than just about anyone. He wandered down the dark halls, the quiet pushing against his eardrums until it was almost unbearable. He hurried down the stairs, eager to get back to his dorm room to start his apology letter to Addison, but stopped when he heard music coming from one of the dance rooms. He stood perfectly still in the middle of the hall for a few minutes, taking in the soaring melody. He hated to disturb someone's practice time, but he was curious to see who was playing such beautiful music. Derek tiptoed to the door of the practice room from which the music was coming. He rested himself against the frame and watched a girl twisting and leaping around the floor. She was tall and thin and graceful and wore scarlet pointe shoes that seemed to meld to her feet. All Derek saw was her silhouette against the moonlit window and the blur of her red shoes as she spun. He was amazed. There was a sense of magic that seemed to flow from her whirling figure and permeate every corner of the room. And then music died softly and all that was left was Derek and the mysterious dancer. Derek stepped tentatively into the room and as the girl tilted her face to the ceiling, he caught a glimpse of red hair. He was too stunned to say anything, so he just stood there and waited for Addison to notice him.

She relaxed her neck and gasped when she saw him standing there. "Derek?"

He swallowed and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I didn't know…" He motioned to the floor. "I… Well… You dance, Addie."

"No," she shook her head furiously. "I… It was a stupid pastime that my mother made me do because of the society thing. I… I haven't done it in years."

He shuffled his feet. "You… You're good."

"Yeah, I used to be."

There was a pregnant silence. "I was…" he started. "I was going to come find you… But it's late and… Well, I didn't. But I kind of did… Just find you."

"We have a way of doing that, Derek," Addison fidgeted with her hands. "We just… tend to find one another."

The six feet between them seemed more like a chasm. "Well…" he started.

She whimpered and fought to choke back a sob. "God…" she sighed, letting more tears fall down her cheeks. "It's not supposed to be this hard."

He nodded. "You're right."

Addison stared at him. "It's too hard to love you as much as I do."

He wanted to rush to her, gather her in his arms and make her feel how sorry he was, but something told him that if he touched her, she'd break down even farther, and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her more than he already had. So he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, Addie…"

She nodded. "Yeah…"

"Addison, please look at me."

He watched her blink back more tears and she lifted her eyes to his. "I am sorry," he whispered into the darkness.

Addison could feel herself shaking, but she was only vaguely aware when she landed on the floor. She only half-realized that her hands were at her eyes, trying furiously to stop the tears that kept coming. She only half-felt Derek beside her kissing her cheeks, and scooping her up into his arms and she only half-heard the sobs she knew that were escaping her own throat.

Derek held her until her chest stopped heaving and until the tears had stopped running down her cheeks. Now she sat in silence as he rocked her back and forth shushing into her hair and planting soft kisses on the top of her head. He wasn't sure how long it had been since they had spoken.

"Damn it, Derek…" she finally muttered.

He sighed and whispered, "I wish I could make it up to you…"

Addison bit her bottom lip. "Dance with me."

He looked at her. "Oh, no. Addison, you know I don't dance. I just… I can't. Besides, you jump and leap and spin and stuff. I do good to bend my knees at the appropriate times."

She stood and pulled him up beside her. "Derek…" She kissed his cheek lightly. "No one's watching. No one but me will see…" Addison placed her lips on his. "Dance with me…"

Derek wrapped his arms around, closed his eyes, and rested his chin on her head. "I love you…" he breathed. "Forever and always… And I know how ridiculously cheesy that sounds right now, but… It's the truth, Addison. I want nothing more than to feel you sleep beside me for the rest of my life. Let's get old and crazy together."

She smiled into his neck. "We'll be alright, won't we, Derek?"

"Of course," he said softly to her. "We're Derek-And-Addison. Did you honestly think Mark could tear us apart?"

Addison laughed. "You're right. We can get through anything… We're Addison-and-Derek."


End file.
